Feathers
by TeamSuperDynamiteWolfSquadrant
Summary: "And so God stretched out his mighty hand, and all of Egypt was in Shadow."


It was midday, and the skies were a clear cerulean blue, only interrupted here and there in various areas with white wisps of cloud, that were hardly threatening any form of rain, be it downpour or a smattering. It was absolutely perfect, Ciel thought as he lay back on the grass. It had been what seemed like an immeasurable amount of time since he had seen skies this blue. Holding an arm over his forehead to cast a shadow, effectively blocking the sun out, he looked over to Sebastian, who was leaning against the base of a tree, reading a book. It was part of a trilogy he had become engrossed with and he wanted to finish it before moving on.

That's how things were, how things had been the past century. Moving from one place to another. Staying a few days, to a few years. Then moving on again. They were in Italy now, staying at the ruins of Pompeii. It was probably the most peaceful place they had gone over the last three to five years. But they couldn't stay long. What with tourists and Archaeologists returning to the site soon enough.

Sensing the mismatched eyes of the young demon, Sebastian turned from his book to look at him, offering a small smile. There had been a point in time where Ciel was sure that his butler hated him, despised him for stealing away the meal he had worked so tirelessly for. But as they both got used to this lifestyle, sometime after the cold war, things calmed between them. And it was easier. True, Sebastian might never forgive the past. And on a number of occasions he'd told Ciel he was better off taking his soul straight after retrieving it, rather than give him the second chance.

But they were here now and there was naught that could be done about that.

"Shall we go into the city for afternoon tea?" The raven asked, marking his page and tucking the novel away into the one of their two small bags he used. They didn't used to carry things around. But these days it didn't hurt to have a rucksack. Ciel smiled and nodded. Neither needed the human sustenance. But to the younger male, it left him with a sense of normality. He could still taste it anyway. And despite having savoured far more refined things, he couldn't deny a sweet cake and cup of tea.

"It sounds nice." He said, climbing to his feet and dusting himself off. He had been lying there for a good few hours after all. Long enough to accumulate some dust, it seemed. "The café we went to yesterday. It was agreeable." Sebastian nodded, taking both their bags and handing Ciel his. It wouldn't be too long and he would be making more tasteful cakes and tea again. But it was a tad far too inconvenient to lug the equipment around when they were on the go like this.

It didn't take all too long to reach the modern city built ontop of half the ancient one, ashen soil between them. Thinking on it, Ciel wished he had seen the original city, back in the day before the titan Vesuvius had engulfed it. But, he was too young to even have had the chance. It would have been a privilege only his ancestors had been granted.

And then an idea struck him. He knew only one who would have possibly had a chance of seeing it. Well… maybe he might have been insulted for being that old. Ah well, what harm could it do right?

"Sebastian?"

"Hm?"

"… Did you see this place…? Before it was destroyed? You say you travelled a fair bit when you were younger." The demon didn't answer for a time, before the slate haired boy saw a shrug of his shoulders.

"I can't recall."

Yet he could recall some unheard of pharaoh Schmenkarei? OR whatever it was. There were many things Sebastian regaled about his life. And Ciel was admittedly curious. Perhaps a lone trip to a library could give him dates of all these events to see if any matched up. But then, if Sebastian was alive at that time, he could have been half way around the world, playing dream raven for the native Americans. They had that didn't they? Probably not. He'd look that up too.

Afternoon tea proved to be quite satisfying for someone who ate souls. Though Sebastian still managed to point out things he would have done better. Ciel struggled not to remind his butler at what a horrible job he had done of cooking not so long ago. Ah well. It wasn't so bad.

On their way back to their little temporary roost, Ciel stopped, something catching his eye. Not paying heed to Sebastian, he walked over and picked it up, rolling it over in his hands.

It was a feather. At least, he thought so. It felt like a feather. But looked like a shear metal blade. Along the stalk part, Celtic style patterns were carved so finely, a human's eye would have overlooked it as scratch damage. To Ciel's eye, it was remarkably beautiful. And foreboding. Sensing Sebastian behind him, waiting, he turned and showed him. He didn't need words. After a century as master and butler, it was clear that he wanted Sebastian to find out what it was. And more importantly, Where it came from. His first thought initially was an angel. But thinking back to the one angel he had ever known, their feathers had been perfect white, flawless.

But then… Sebastian's expression was one of recognition… and fear? Fear? Sebastian?

"We need to leave." He said, gesturing to Ciel to follow. The once upon a time earl, didn't argue.

They made their way to the docks, slipping unseen, onto a ship bound for London. He hadn't planned to go that way for a long time. But it was the only one that was easy enough to get onto without causing a stir. But the quiet, calm walking changed into a rush when Sebastian's ears heard a low beating of wings, growing louder. He grabbed Ciel's hand and pulled him into the cargo hold, tearing the lid off of a crate. It was partially empty. He put their bags in and turned to Ciel.

"This time… don't leave the box until I come and get you. Promise me." Ciel blinked, looking up at the other before he nodded and climbed in. Sebastian smiled in a way that was different than normal. And Ciel felt scared. Scared like the child he was no longer. Shaking, he closed his eyes tight before Sebastian put the lid back on. It felt like… Goodbye.

He heard Sebastian's footsteps. Tentative. Careful. He was scared. Ciel knew it. What could a demon… No… what could Sebastian be scared of…?

Everything went quiet for a few short moments. And there was a second set of footsteps. And then they stopped. He heard someone speak, though it was muffled. Again, silence. And then the ring of metal, a crash and a muffled cry.

Silence.

The footsteps grew closer. Was it Sebastian?

They lingered for a moment, before going. The cargo hold door opened and there was a beating of wings again and yet more silence.

Ciel was shaking lightly. What the hell had happened? He knew Sebastian had told him to stay put… but something didn't feel right.

Pushing the lid open carefully, trying not to make the timber creak, he slipped out of the box, remembering where it was so he could come and get their bags later. Swallowing, he began to walking, looking around corners, too cautious to call out for his butler. Hec, lack of mortality had him holding his breath completely, even though it was uncomfortable.

His ears pricked when he heard a wet, splash sort of sound. He froze for a moment, before looking down to see the toe of his boot in a pool of blood. If not for the black feathers everywhere, he would have been optimistic. His eyes and his feet led him on, knowing what was at the end of the trail of feathers and blood, but not willing to believe it.

The dock workers whispered amongst themselves as they watched the client board the ship. Inspecting cargo was it? He was an odd fellow. No matter how many times they did these jobs for him, he always insisted on inspecting them himself. But no one dared question the silver haired man. And no one followed to see what his shipment was .

This had always amused the Undertaker. It was only coffins. Harmless coffins waiting for a touch of originality to the design, and of course, a lovely corpse to fill it. Chuckling to himself, he pushed open the door to the cargo hold, expecting it to be normal, same as it always was. Instead, he was greeted with the scent of blood, thick in the air. The smile died on his lips and he frowned. Closing the door behind him, he followed the scent, turning only when the scent grew stronger and led him in a different direction until it could only lead him to the end of the trail.

Two black wings, pinned to the wall with silver feathers, gleaming the light barely shining through the tiny portholes. They had been torn from the back of their owner, who's body lay on the ground, slumped against the wall, with great gashed, charred and bloody ran from his shoulder to his hip. And nestled against the broken, bloodied body of Sebastian Michaelis, was Ciel Phantomhive, who's mismatched eyes widened in some recognition of fear as they looked up at the retired reaper.


End file.
